Just  Off  The  Coast  To The Baltic Sea 
    There'S A Freshwater Pond, Secluded   
 Among Ashen And  Juniper. A Cleft In The 
  Limestone Bedrock, Sharp-Cut From The   
   Surrounding Plains, A Ninety Degree    
 Drop Down, Down, To  The  Midnight-Black 
                  Water.                  
                                          
                          
                                  
     Fairies Live Here.     
                                  
                          
                                          
 They Speak  To The  Sloane,  Caress  It, 
 Urge  It To Grow Thicker,  Tangled, With 
 Longer And  Sharper Thorns. They Tell It 
 To  Stay  Just Below  The Grass, So That 
 The  Animals  What  Come  To  Drink  The 
 Water Cannot  See  It  Before  It  Draws 
 Their  Blood. Closer  To  The Pond,  The 
 Sloane  Can  Grow Taller, Being  Able To 
        Hide Also In The Juniper.         
                                          
 The Fairies Will  Beckon The Animals  To 
 Push  Forward,  Tell Them  That  They'Re 
 Almost  At  The  Water,  That  They  May 
 Drink Soon. And  They Will  Tug  On  The 
 Sloane  To Make Sure That The Thorns Cut 
 Deep. When They  Finally Find  The  Path 
 Down Between The  Rocks,  Away From  The 
 Bushwork  And Into The Cleft,  They  Are 
 Bleeding  From  A  Thousand  Wounds.  As 
 They  Drink From The Dark  Water,  It Is 
 In  Turn  Drinking  The  Animals  Blood. 
                                          
 The  Circle  Is Complete,  The  Contract 
 Carried Out; The Animal Is  Abandoned To 
 Find Its Own Way Back.  The Bushes Roots 
 Drink The Nutrutious  Water. The Fairies 
          Dance In The Sunbeams.